


Bruised (knuckles, ribs and maybe hearts)

by intheKnickoftime



Series: Amends [1]
Category: Purple Hyacinth (Webcomic)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Conflict, F/M, Fighting, Lauren is So Angry y'all, Sparring, a little bit of talking it out, both internal and external, how do fight scenes work? idk man, these nerds have a long way to go, unresolved tension- of both the sexual and emotional varieties ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheKnickoftime/pseuds/intheKnickoftime
Summary: “Employees of the precinct are allowed access to the gym facilities, are we not?” He smiled, like they were sharing some sort of private joke.It was infuriating. It made Lauren want to punch the smirk right off his face.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Series: Amends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746760
Comments: 9
Kudos: 132





	Bruised (knuckles, ribs and maybe hearts)

“What are _you_ doing here?”

The question burst out of Lauren before she could stop it, sharp and bitter and rough at the edges. She regretted it almost immediately, because not only was talking to Kieran _not_ something she was remotely interested in right now, but also it was a _stupid_ question to boot. He did work here, after all.

Archivist Kieran White paused, glancing over his shoulder at her from his post beside a punching bag, looking faintly amused.

“I do work here, Officer,” he said, echoing her train of thought. “Employees of the precinct are allowed access to the gym facilities, are we not?” He readjusted the strands of linen around his hands and knuckles as he spoke, smiling like they were sharing some sort of private joke.

It was infuriating. It made Lauren want to punch the smirk right off his face. But _that_ would inevitably lead to questions, and she didn’t want to do anything unnecessary to clue her coworkers into her existing… _history_ with their newest archivist. Him showing up with a black eye would certainly raise some eyebrows.

So instead she schooled her face back into a polite, if strained, smile.

“I’m aware, Mr. White,” she said, keeping her voice deliberately neutral. “It’s just not often that one sees an _archivist_ working out down here.”

He chuckled at that.

“Even archivists should stay sharp,” he commented. “With both Phantom Scythe and Lune running amok, you never know when you may have to defend yourself. **I’m a bit rusty,** but figured I’d make use of the free resource.”

Lauren couldn’t suppress a snort.

_I bet it’s an improvement over your cave._

“Whatever,” she muttered, pointedly turning her back to him. “Just so long as you don’t bother me, _archivist.”_

“I never knew you had such disdain for the archival unit,” Kieran quipped, and she could _hear_ the mocking smile in his voice even if she couldn’t see it, and there was the impulse to punch him again. She gritted her teeth.

Maybe she should just leave. Lauren wasn’t sure she’d be able to get in a good workout, anyways, with her former partner and current enemy (and now _coworker,_ of all things) hovering in the background- taking up the only punching bag in the room too, she noted disapprovingly. She had wanted to use that. And possibly imagine his bespectacled face on it with every hit. Where and _why_ had he even obtained an obviously-fake pair?

She clenched her fists, surveying her other options- none of which were as appealing as the idea of venting her frustrations on a punching bag.

“You seem tense,” Kieran commented mildly. Lauren had to suppress a _growl._ She turned on her heel, intending to- yell at him or simply punch him. She wasn’t sure which. Possibly both. Maybe she _would_ punch him, and _then_ yell at him. That sounded like a good plan-

“Might I suggest,” Kieran grinned in an especially infuriating way and held up his hands, “an alternative to standing in the corner, thinking murderous thoughts in my direction?” 

“You mean, like getting it over with and straight-up murdering you now?” Lauren asked sardonically, rolling her eyes. “That _does_ sound like a better plan. What’s your preferred method of execution?”

_(Why was she talking to him like this- why was it so easy to slip back into this kind of banter- she was angry at him she was_ **_furious_ ** _at him- and part of her was_ scared _of him too, and just as scared of admitting that to herself. She remembered hands closing around her neck and shivered.)_

“How about a spar- for old times’ sake?” Kieran suggested, his eyes oddly searching, as though trying to gauge her response. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Lauren realized with a shock that he actually looked _apprehensive._

That made her even angrier. _He_ didn’t get to be apprehensive- not after everything he’d-

“Fine,” she growled at him, cutting off her own train of thought, grabbing a roll of linen to wrap around her own knuckles. Even as she did so, she felt a humming throughout her, anticipation and nerves at the thought of fighting him again. Their sparring sessions in his cave flashed briefly behind her eyes- back when they were still Lune and she had trusted him, at least tentatively.

Now, as they silently took up their positions opposite each other in the roped-off ring, everything felt different, giant unspoken feelings rearing their heads on both sides, the air between them thick with some mix of tension and anticipation and fear and-

Lauren shook her head, a few wispy strands of hair dangling from the end of her previously neat bun. She rolled her shoulders and straightened up, willing her hands not to shake.

And then Kieran was cracking that smile of his and darting at her, fists at the ready. Lauren darted to the side, feeling the rush of air over her shoulder as his fist narrowly missed her.

“Still in top form, I see,” Kieran said casually, as though they were doing nothing more strenuous than discussing the weather. “I’d missed our little spars.”

_He’s not lying._

Lauren viciously stamped down the brief jolt that realization sent through her. He was trying to distract her. She let out a sharp cry and levelled a blow at his chest- but Kieran caught her wrist and shoved her away once more.

“Have you missed me too, officer?” he asked. Lauren felt her anger rising up again, a roiling tide of rage that was renewed with every soft mocking remark of his.

“No,” she growled, aiming another blow at him. “I have not missed you- and if you think _this_ \- this- trying to pretend like everything is _fine-”_

She aimed one mindless blow after another, meeting and sidestepping Kieran’s own until her knuckles were bleeding and both of them had a sheen of sweat on their foreheads. And still she simmered with rage. How could he behave so casually?

In her preoccupation, she let her focus slip, and Kieran knocked her feet out from under her, pushing her to the floor of the mat, pinning her wrists with infuriating ease. She might have been able to keep up with him on their larks as Lune, but the reminder that he was still much stronger than her (strong enough to carry her, strong enough to _choke_ her- get a grip, she told herself) was always a harsh one.

“This changes nothing,” she snarled up at his impassive face. “Just because you’re working here now- if anything, that makes it _worse-_ ”

“I didn’t expect it to,” Kieran muttered, his eyes and expression deceptively calm. But she felt the tremor in his hands at her wrists, the shuddering exhale of his breathing, and suddenly it felt like everything was far too close, like she was teetering on a knife’s edge, and she wanted him to _stop_ fooling her into believing he might sincerely want to make amends. That bridge was burned, she told herself.

She didn’t need her ability to know that though was, at best, only a partial truth.

She hated this.

She hated that she was afraid of him, after everything, despite the fact that, knowing what he was capable of and what he’d _done_ (both to others _and_ to her- _she remembered his suffocating grip once more-_ ), he _should_ have been one of the most terrifying people she knew.

She hated that she’d seen enough of him to know that that’s not all he was.

She hated that part of her still missed him. 

As she had so long ago- or perhaps, not that long ago at all- she wrenched her wrists free from his momentarily relaxed grip, and shifted her knees around his, wrenching them around so that she was on top of him, pinning him to the mat. And though he could have broken free if he’d tried, he let her. His eyes still hadn’t left hers, and she _hated_ it.

“I’m sorry, Lauren,” he breathed.

Not a lie.

Lauren stared at him for a moment, blue eyes meeting gold.

And then she pushed off of him and stood, stepping out of the ring and walking briskly back to her lockers. 

“I don’t care,” she choked out as she left, not looking back at him. “We don’t have anything more to say to each other.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth, ringing with fear and untruth.

She couldn’t do this- didn’t want to have this conversation right now.

She wasn’t even sure what _‘this conversation’_ would entail.

Since when was everything so complicated?

She rested her head against the cool, solid metal of the lockers, exhaling shakily.

_I'm sorry, Lauren._

\---  
  


Kieran was still lying on the mat, chest heaving. Still feeling the phantom press of Lauren pinning him to the mat, the golden sear of her eyes glaring into his.

He didn’t need her gift to know she had been lying. He had seen it in her clenched fists and shaky breaths and refusal to look at him as she’d said-

_I don’t care._

_We have nothing to say to each other._

He knew he didn’t deserve her forgiveness. But that didn’t lessen the ache for something he hadn’t expected to miss.

**Author's Note:**

> me writing kywi: aww look, they're hugging-  
> me writing lauki: they're FIGHTING, LOOK at them-
> 
> writing from Lauren's perspective of 'internal rage' was a little cathartic, I'm not gonna lie. :v
> 
> kudos and comments are mcfreaking wonderful, bless you all for feeding my ego


End file.
